Warrandice
by tacos-for-all
Summary: It's Draco's sixth year at Hogwarts. Not only does he have to tollerate The 'Terrible Trio', but Looney Lovegood won't stop getting under his skin. Pairing: DracoLuna
1. Chapter 1: Lost In Translation

15

**AN:** ladies and jelly spoons

**Legal Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the ****property of J K Rowling**** and ****not me****… I'd like to repeat, ****not me****, I don't own Harry, Draco, Luna…. Heck, I don't even own Dumbledore. The only one to own Dumbledore was Snape. Oh, snap…. Yeah, probably shouldn't have put that last part in… oh, well **

There a few things I should probably warn you about before you read this:

1. I like adjectives, I mean I REALLY like adjectives so that means that this story will be rather heavy going.. I can't help it, it's just the way I am…

2. I Haven't picked up a Harry Potter book since 2005, so this story will be rife with inconsistencies. Put it down to my literary genius that I've taken the series down a new and interesting path… two words: creative license.

3. Being in my last year of school it's feasible to assume that I may be spending majority of my time on my studies, the rest will be spent drinking. I'll update as frequently as possible but don't be angry if it takes me months to update. Remember that 'absence makes the heart grow stronger'

4. I'm a review junkie so please review, or critique as long as it's **constructive**, I.e.: 'Great story, but I'm pretty sure Harry's parents are dead and not living, breathing, walking around, eating burritos, etc'

I really can't stress this enough, people, statements like; 'this story sucks,' or 'don't quit your day job.' will result in my hurt feelings and the subsequent napalming of your house…

5. If all goes well this'll end with about twenty chapters, give or take. I have absolutely no idea about the direction of this story but I have a very hazy outline

6. This is a Luna/Draco pairing…I'm yet to decide whether Draco will form a relationship with the Terrible Trio yet, so it should be interesting to see how things will pan out…

**And without further adieu, please enjoy: **

­­­­­

_Warrandice (wor'-an-dis) n. In Scots law, a clause in a deed binding the granter to make good to the guarantee any loss arising out of obligations antecedent to the date of the conveyance _

_- Collins English Dictionary_

**WARRANDICE**

**Chapter 1: Lost In Translation**

"_Who is the man I see_

_Where I'm supposed to be_

_I lost my heart_

_I buried it too deep_

_Under the iron sea" _

_- Keane, 'Crystal Ball' _

Water dripped from a multitude of cracks in the decaying, concrete roof. Rats scurried noisily, unhurried as the sole illumination; a naked bulb, coruscated sporadically before enveloping the room in darkness once more. In the dingy blackness of the room the figure lay; recumbent and inert. Platinum blond hair matted and limp, his face almost entirely submerged in grime. The rancid water around his mouth rippled as he shakily exhaled.

Draco regained consciousness in the darkness naked to the waist, trousers sodden, bruised, shivering and completely alone. He opened one swollen eye, blanching slightly. He slowly lifted his head, swallowing the bile that rose in his throat as the room spun. Draco drew a few dizzying breaths and waited for the vertigo to pass. With great effort he coordinated his limbs. One palm then, the other, flattened on the grimy floor, he attempted to lift himself upwards.

Draco's arms shook dangerously and the dull ache in his head flared into an agonizing, relentless pounding. He moaned as he dragged himself to the closest wall, his muscles screaming in protest. He propped himself against the wall and hissed as the rough surface rubbed against his wounded, hypersensitive flesh.

Attempting to distract himself from the pain, Draco opened his eyes the same time the bulb flared; he yelped and covered his eyes, blinding whiteness blanketing his vision. He waited for the glare to pass as his eyes adjusted.

The room he was currently imprisoned in was a vile affair of dampness and hard, uncompromising concrete about three meters long and two wide. He squinted at the adjacent corner of the room and noticed a black shape. The shape manifested itself as a rumpled heap of cloth and as he reached out to grasp it, he drew up short.

Draco drew his left arm up close to his face.

There, on the inside of his arm, was the dark mark.

The jet black ink stood out starkly against his alabaster skin and ran from his wrist to the inside of his elbow. He drew a shuddering breath and for a few seconds, time stood still. The bulb sputtered and died as darkness fell once more.

His stomach plummeted and he felt the bile rise once more. _The dark mark? But how?… I don't remember anything.. _His head swam dangerously as he tried to recall his scattered memories. _Where am I?_ Nothing; just a foggy emptiness. Which could probably be attributed to a potion.

He cursed and spat.

The door to the cell suddenly swung open and Draco shielded his eyes. He saw two dark blurry figures against the stark whiteness of the hallway and heard a gruff voice shouting, "He's come to!" Before the world went dark.

.:0:.

Draco awoke in a loud, uncomfortably hot room in more pain than before. _I blacked out again? If I keep this up people will start calling me Potter._ He chuckled and tried to raise his hand to his throbbing temples to realize with dread that his hands were chained.

Draco opened his eyes and waited for the spots dancing across his vision to subside. He seemed to be shackled to a chair at the head of a claustrophobic dining hall filled with scores of robed people. Maintaining their back to him, they moved about chattering and picking food. Fires blazed magically adding to the suffocating atmosphere. Every footfall, every clinking of cutlery and glass echoed painfully in his head.

Someone had taken the effort to clothe him in deep emerald ceremonial robes. He reached up as far as his restraints would allow and ran his hands slowly over the ornate cloth.

He swallowed the lump in his throat and tried to reach for the closest goblet, the chains strained and rattled in protest. He slumped in the chair and sighed in defeat. The hard backed wooden chair was putting unwanted pressure on the sores on his back and the robe, albeit expensive, chafed him.

When he renewed his battle with the shackles, the robed figures unanimously turned.

Draco froze.

Death Eaters.

Their gruesome masks glowed eerily in the dim light and sent icy shivers down his spine. Even though he'd been to many Death Eater meetings with his father, Lucius, they still made him feel naked.

Exposed.

Powerless.

One anonymous figure disengaged itself and strode toward him. Draco tensed until the mask was removed to reveal the stern, aristocratic features of his father. He reached the table, selected a goblet and handed it to his son.

"You handled yourself well"

Draco inclined his head slightly and tried to still the tremors of the hand clasped around the cup.

It took all of Draco's restraint not to empty the contents over his father's expensive robes and wipe the smug, conceited expression from his face.

He took a generous swig of the liquid and let the velvety texture slide down his parched throat like ambrosia.

"I knew you wouldn't embarrass me," His father continued. "you're mother," He spat out the title like it was diseased, "was of a different opinion. She believed you to be too young to be initiated into The Dark Lord's great ranks." Lucius shook his head and pinned Draco with a cold, flinty glower, "Women," His father snorted, "What do they know?"

Draco hazarded a laugh and gulped his drink, unsure how to otherwise respond, the direction of the conversation making him uncomfortable. He shifted in his seat, blanching as he felt wounds on his torso reopening.

His father took this as encouragement to continue on listing his Narcissa's shortcomings, "She knows nothing aside from the luxurious life she leads." Lucius' gaze became unfocused, distant, "Although for that I am wholly to blame." He sniffed daintily, "I'm always indulging in her girlish fantasies, and subsequently she has become far too dependant on me."

Draco made as if to interject; his mother certainly wasn't happy as a Malfoy. In fact, 'happy' probably would've been the last adjective Draco would've used to describe Narcissa's mood lately.

He remembered absently when he was a child, the halls of their family estate used be filled with the sounds of his mother's ringing laughter, her face used to glow. A smile ever hovering on her full lips.

But after her miscarriage everything had changed. The horrific events of that night surfaced from the dark recesses of his mind:

.:FLASHBACK:.

_A five-year old Draco, clad in his pajamas, hovered anxiously by the door to his mother's room, clutching his stuffed toy dog to his breast. He clamped his small hands over his ears, trying to block out his mother's screams of agony. 'let mummy be okay' he pleaded, over and over, a silent mantra. _

_So much confusion_

_He slid down the wall into the fetal position, hugging his knees to his chest, his head buried under his arms. 'make it stop' He started to sob. _

_So much pain_

_The nurses kept coming out of Narcissa's room, arms leaden with bloody sheets. _

_So much blood._

_With daddy away on business, there was no-one to look after mummy. No one to hold her hand and tell her everything was going to be okay. _

_Suddenly, there was silence. _

_Draco lifted his head, he couldn't hear anything. After the confusion, the complete absence of sound was eerie and sent chills down his spine. Shouldn't his little sister be crying? Shouldn't mummy be shouting with joy? _

_A cry of bereavement pierced the stillness of the night _

_Draco stood, tucking his toy under one arm, and moved to the whitewashed door. He pushed outward…_

.:END OF FLASHBACK:.

The memory of his mother, delirious with sorrow, holding his stillborn sister in her arms would be one that would stay with Draco forever. Since that day he'd watched his mother's smile disappear, her laughter fade from the halls of the manor, her eyes grow haunted.

It wasn't until many years later Draco found out that his father hadn't been away on business, but had been with his mistress in Europe.

Since then, Draco had directed all his inward rage toward his father, blamed him for the horrific sequence of evens that had left his mother an empty shell.

It was HIS fault he hadn't been there to hold her hand, help her bring his sister into the world.

It was HIS fault his mother had become mere shadow of her former self.

It was HIS fault that every time he brought his mother another trinket Draco was forced

to watch his mother's heart break all over again.

No… His mother definitely wasn't 'happy' in her gilded cage.

Lucius bent to remove Draco's shackles. A chill shot up his spine as the Death Eaters halted their conversations, turned to him and began to remove their masks. His father half lifted half wrenched Draco out of his seat and stood him before the assembled crowd.

"Dark Wizards and witches," His father's voice was soft but carried authority and demanded respect, "May I present to you my son, the youngest Death Eater to be admitted into His ranks in wizarding history." His father grabbed Draco's left arm roughly and yanked up his sleeve, exposing the black tattoo snaking up his arm. Draco tried to look nonchalant as the hall erupted into applause.

His stomach churned, bile rose in his throat.

_This isn't exactly how I was intending to start my sixth year at Hogwarts_.

.:0:.

Luna Lovegood slowly opened her eyes and stretched languidly.

It was July, and the start of her second last year at Hogwarts.

She turned over, sighed contently and buried her head in the soft, downy pillow.

Her magical Wapslark-safe alarm clock, that she'd made herself, shrilled incessantly.

She reached blindly toward her dresser.

Luna swatted the area she believed the clock to be. She knocked over her purple lampshade and smacked her pet cat square on the head, whereupon he yowled in indignation and thundered off, hackles raised.

"Sorry Craddles." She murmured, rising to wipe the sleep from her eyes. She punched in the special code on the alarm clock. One could never be too careful with Wapslarks… they were a crafty bunch.

She weaved her way through the congealed mess of papers and articles of clothing to her desk. She didn't want to move anything lest she disturb the family of Troflargs taking up residence underneath her old Hogwarts textbooks. The mother Troflarg had a notoriously bad temper, especially in the morning.

Luna still couldn't stop the ominous foreboding she'd been feeling the past two months. Three readings on her Ghafter Sphere had confirmed her suspicions.

Something bad was coming her way and there was little or nothing she could do to stop it.

An involuntary shiver ran down her spine.

Luna picked up the freshest copy of the Daily Prophet on her desk, which only happened to be seven months old. She pored over the headlines, searching for a distraction.

Finding none, she tossed the newspaper back on the desk and moved to get ready lest she miss the train…

.:0:.

The shrill whistle of the Hogwarts Express started Draco from his slumber. _I must've dozed off,_ he thought absently as he observed the students all flooding out of their compartments and onto the Hogwarts platform.

Draco joined the throng of nervous students and noticed that something was awfully wrong.

The complete absence of sound.

Aside from the initial whistle of the steam train, there was nothing but an empty void of silence. The robed teenagers bustled past him in mute excitement. Their mouths moved in inaudible conversations. Owls shrieked soundlessly in their cages.

Draco stopped as he felt a stirring in the air. Suddenly Draco could sense the presence of something evil. A virulent presence that sent chills up his spine and made him want to run.

Draco's feet remained rooted to the ground in fear.

Black clouds billowed on the horizon and engulfed the perfect blue sky. An arctic breeze cut through his clothing as he tried to pull his robes tighter around his body. His breath plumed before his eyes.

He turned.

There stood the Dark Lord. His thin lips curled into a serpentine, cruel smile.

Like a rabbit caught in a trap Draco stood shivering, his legs filled with lead. It was then he noticed Lord Voldemort was holding his father captive. One of his claw-like, translucent hands was snaked around his Lucius's throat while a look of frozen terror played across his father's face.

His other hand withdrew his wand and aimed it at Draco's chest .

Draco could feel Lord Voldemort penetrate his mind. Pain unlike nothing he'd ever experienced flooded into his head and lanced through his body. He screamed at the brutal intrusion.

_Destroy Potter or I kill you both. _

.:0:.

Draco awoke from the nightmare, a scream lodged in his throat.

He was sandwiched between Crabbe and Goyle in a Hogwarts train compartment. Blaise Zabini and Pansy Parkinson sat across from them, deep in conversation. Apparently, Lavender Brown's parents' company had gone bankrupt leaving them without so much as a silver sickle to their name.

The remnants of the dream still clear on his mind, Draco pushed the two hulking behemoths out of the way, slammed open the compartment door and stormed off down the hallway, ignoring the confused glances of his peers.

Draco finally located a toilet cubicle and, after scaring away a few first years waiting in line, he slid inside and closed the door.

He stared at the boy before him in the mirror; dark rings underneath his eyes stood out starkly against skin that was far too pallid. His cheeks looked sunken and his platinum blonde hair had lost its sheen.

He pulled his shirt out of his slacks and lifted up his school robes and examined his bruises. They had lost their sickening purple hew and were now a musty yellow that reminded Draco of a jaundice victim.

He still didn't understand how being beaten to a bloody pulp, dumped in some dingy cell then shackled to a chair could've aided his transition to a Death Eater, but his father had assured him it'd all been necessary, "Character-building," He'd said, "Life defining experience."

Draco, who believed his father was as mad as a mandrake root, was less than convinced. He believed it just furthered the idea that Death Eaters were nothing more than a bunch of sadistic Dark-Lord-worshiping zealots and that his father would lick the grime off the Dark Lord's boot if ordered to.

Still, he couldn't deny that since the trial his popularity hadn't increased tenfold.

All the slytherins had looked upon him with jealousy and awe, and some, Draco noted with smug satisfaction, with fear. His notoriety was a welcome distraction from the emptiness he felt.

He didn't know what to do about the vision. Maybe telling Blaise was a good idea… Draco realized that he didn't really have anyone else, considering between them, Crabbe and Goyle would be lucky to tie their own shoes and he wouldn't know how his father would react to being told about his own predicted demise.

No, he realized, this was a problem that Draco would have to sort through himself.

He dropped his robes, leaving his shirt tucked out. He turned on the tap and splashed the icy water over his face, running his wet hands through his hair. He gave himself one last look in the mirror, absently wishing he knew a spell that would get rid of the bags under his eyes, and left the stall.

As Draco was heading back to his compartment he ran into none other than the Griffindor Trio.

He suddenly felt like all his Christmases had come at once.

What better way to vent his frustration than to get under Potter's skin?

He sauntered up to them and called out in his most derisive tone, "So, the Infallible Three, together again." Ron squared his shoulders, Hermione sighed with a holier-than-thou expression plastered on her face, Harry just looked tired.

"Resorted to childish name-calling, Malfoy?" Came Hermione's shrill retort, "Yeah. This is desperate, even for a rat like you." Added Ron.

Seeing as that wasn't nearly the response Draco wanted (making Ron agitated and Hermione frustrated was about as difficult as teaching a dragon to belch flames) he goaded them further.

"And how did the weasel, the Mudblood and scar face spend their vacation? Visiting relatives no doubt." He stared pointedly at Harry, who fixed him with a vacant green stare.

This hollow-eyed pacifism wasn't what he was anticipating and for a moment, Draco conceded to admit to the possibility that Harry may have gotten the better of him for once.

His nostrils flared. A Malfoy never admits defeat.

Students from all four houses begin to mill around them with nervous excitement, waiting for a fight to break out.

Not one to loose face, particularly in front of such a large audience, Draco sorted through his arsenal of insults, deciding to go for one last stab.

"I don't know quite how you manage it Potter," He spat, "But you somehow manage to dispose of anyone who you've gotten close to… it's a miracle that you let the princess and the pauper within ten feet of you." He glanced at Hermione, her dark brown eyes glaring daggers, and Ron, who's face now matched the bright vermilion of his hair, "Not that I'm complaining; it facilitates the Dark Lord's work, of which He sends His thanks."

A cacophony of sniggers, gasps and hollers emanated from the crowd of students, who had now formed a tight circle around the four of them.

Draco knew automatically that he'd hit a nerve, even before Harry's closed fist was sailing towards his face. He sniggered as he easily dodged Harry's blow. _Seriously, If there's anything more entertaining than pushing Potter's buttons I don't want to hear about it_.

"Now, that wasn't very nice, now was it?" A disembodied feminine voice cut through the leering swarm of assembled students.

Harry let go of his chokehold on Draco's necktie and Draco peered around, trying to source the direction it'd come from.

"Shame on you Draco Malfoy." The voice took on a mock-reprimanding tone. "Harry's not long lost his Godfather and here you find yourself compelled to insult poor Sirius's memory?"

The mob parted to reveal none other than Luna Lovegood. She moved forward to position herself next to Hermione.

Draco snarled, "You stay out of this, Looney!"

"Leave her alone, Draco. Your fight's with me."

Draco almost laughed. Oh, the drivel that spewed forth from Potter's mouth; always good for a laugh, the self-righteous git. He practically projected virtue and chivalry from every pore in his body.

_I bet he's still a virgin_.

That thought brought a smirk to his face. Harry caught the look, his hand reaching for his wand, suddenly suspicious. Draco crossed his arms and cocked a thin silver eyebrow.

"Don't bother, Harry," Came that annoying voice again. Draco was yet to decide whether she was brave, daft, or equal parts both. One of the many irritating qualities seemed to be ingrained into the character of every Griffindor to ever grace Hogwarts' halls.

"It's not his fault his home life's unsatisfying."

That melted the smile off Draco's face. "He's being forced into doing something…" She placed a gentle hand on Harry's arm, who slowly lowered his wand, "That he doesn't want to do but has no control over."

Draco's hand reached for his wand.

_No_, he definitely wasn't happy with the direction this conversation was headed.

"I have a sinking suspicion that Snaffle-Gougers are behind it." Luna tapped her nose conspiratorially. Draco's grip on his wand eased significantly, the girl was clearly deranged. _Still_, came that insistent voice at the back of his head, _That hit far too close to home_.

The crowd, sensing the fight had come to a disappointing, anti-climactic conclusion, gradually dispersed.

"… and I think I have the perfect charm to counteract it," Was she _still_ babbling? Draco raked his hand through his shoulder-length hair and let out a dramatic sigh. "somewhere in here." She proceeded to rifle through a gaudy shoulder bag that looked older than Dumbledore.

"Ah, there it is." Luna withdrew a knickknack about the length and width of her palm and tried to hand it to Draco, who glared at it with such fervent disgust Luna felt like she was offering him human feces instead of one of her charms.

Harry, Ron and Hermione sniggered at his expression.

Draco, feeling like he was losing the upper hand, shot them all death glares; which only made them laugh harder.

"It's ok," She prompted, "it won't bite." Draco looked at the thing in her hand, doubtful. It appeared to be a dried aubergine with owl feathers and mermaid scales cello-taped to it. "the owl feathers to bring you good fortune and the mermaid scales will protect you from the darkness that the Snaffle-Gougers have shrouded you in." She finished her explanation with a few random gestures in the air.

Draco grudgingly took it out of Luna's hand. Daintily grasping between his thumb and forefinger, he tucked it into his robes.

Luna beamed. "Don't get the wrong idea, Loopy. This means nothing." Draco's eyes were cold. He heard Hermione inhale sharply.

He turned abruptly and stormed back to his compartment, hoping to leave with at least a portion of his dignity. What concerned him more than the Wonder-Trio undermining his authority was how violently his body had reacted to Luna's smile.

The stabbing desire that coiled in his stomach was nothing short of alarming.

Draco loosened his tie. _Alarming indeed_…

"He's such a prat," Ron grumbled and made an obscene finger gesture at Draco's receding figure.

"Weren't you listening Ron? Snaffle-Gougers are solely to blame for the confusion clogging his Q'Arthon Zones, this creates tension and makes him lash out at others like a wounded Gnafler… The only problem is can anyone save him from himself? My charms can only do so much..."

Luna floated away as silently has she had approached.

It was on the tip of Ron's Tongue to tell Luna how 'effective' her charms were but a stern frown from Hermione silenced him. He contented himself with making a swirling motion at his temple, which made Harry snort and Hermione frown harder.

"Careful 'Mione," Ron joked, "If the wind freezes you'll be stuck like that forever." She promptly hit Ron over the back of the head with a textbook she'd been lugging around since they'd got on the train, "That's not funny, Ronald!" She shrieked.

Harry burst into peals of laughter, "You two. I swear sometimes you were a married couple." They ceased their argument and simultaneously flushed bright red.

Harry cleared his throat, sobering slightly.

"You are, aren't you? A couple, I mean." His words hung in the air.

"I'm sorry we didn't tell you sooner, we were waiting for the right moment." Murmured Hermione, staring at her feet.

Harry looked from Ron to Hermione, letting the betrayal sink in.

"It's okay I guess." Harry said with sincerity he barely felt himself. "I mean, the three of us have faced Voldemort before, so what's a secret between friends… right?" He plastered a false smile on his face matching those of his two friends.

The train shrill whistle sounded, signaling the imminent arrival at Hogwarts Station

They made their way back to the compartment to ready their effects.

Draco smiled. He'd jumped into an empty compartment within earshot and had heard the entire conversation with mounting glee. He now possessed a powerful weapon in his arsenal... Now how to use it?

He turned the charm around in his pocket. His smile darkened

This year wasn't turning out so bad after all…


	2. Chapter 2: House Unity

24

**AN:** I forgot to mention it in the last chapter because I'm a bit of a noob, so I'll do it now as I don't want to get sued and have the IRS come and repossess my house. I'll go back and add this in to the previous chapter as well:

**Legal Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the ****property of J K Rowling**** and ****not me****… I'd like to repeat, ****not me****, I don't own Harry, Draco, Luna…. Heck, I don't even own Dumbledore. The only one to own Dumbledore was Snape. Oh, snap…. Yeah, probably shouldn't have put that last part in… oh, well **

**Snape also uses the term "Dazzle us"… not mine Helen Mirren's character says it in Teaching Mrs. Tingle… great movie folks**

The reception for the first chapter was really awesome… I posted it at midnight (that's Australia time… We do things differently Down Under) and when I checked it the following morning it'd got thirty hits… in the space of seven hours I was very impressed and proud. (I like to believe that the people who opened up the page actually read it as opposed to just getting a paragraph in, going "Fk it, I couldn't be bothered concentrating on this tripe" and then promptly closing the window…)

Thanks for that, 'kyootnshort'… I'll try to moderate Luna's insanity. I have a tendency to get rather carried away . ;

(But I personally believe that's what'd be going on in her head)

Thanks José for the kind words of encouragement

And thanks to kelberts for mentioning the Draco-Luna pairing XD

Still keep the reviews coming, this writing machine runs on praise and coffee… and money as well, money's very important ;)

Oh, and another thing that my friends (Lalia and J8 forever) pointed out:

Luna is a year level down from Harry, Hermione, etc. in the **book,** but in the first chapter I mention that she's in the same year and is in Griffindor… this is purely for the dynamics of the story and has **nothing** to do with the fact that I may have forgotten…. cough Lets say she skipped a year… Or they were all kept down, lol…

SO I SHALL REPEAT: LUNA HAS SKIPPED A YEAR AND IS NOW IN GRIFFINDOR!! I mean… when you think about it, that's what fan fiction's all about, isn't it?? Bending the rules and such?? If you don't like it just read the real thing…

I guess that sort of makes this an AU now….

(Heads up: sorry about the profanity but it seemed necessary and things may get a little steamy…okay, like, PG rated steam…. so only a little.. And only briefly… just a general warning.. I'll stop blathering and get on with a story.. Does anyone read this thing anyway? Probably not :S)

**And one last thing (I promise this is the last) for all those who are reading 'Second Chances,' the second chapter is coming… it's just that my school friends kept asking about the next chapter of Warrandice so I updated this first. **

**--**

**Quick Recap:**

_Harry cleared his throat, sobering slightly. _

"_You are, aren't you? A couple, I mean." His words hung in the air._

"_I'm sorry we didn't tell you sooner, we were waiting for the right moment." Murmured Hermione, staring at her feet. _

_Harry looked from Ron to Hermione, letting the betrayal sink in. _

"_It's okay I guess." Harry said with sincerity he barely felt himself. "I mean, the three of us have faced Voldemort before, so what's a secret between friends… right?" He plastered a false smile on his face matching those of his two friends. _

_The train shrill whistle sounded, signaling the imminent arrival at Hogwarts Station _

_They made their way back to the compartment to ready their effects._

_Draco smiled. He'd jumped into an empty compartment within earshot and had heard the entire conversation with mounting glee. He now possessed a powerful weapon in his arsenal... Now how to use it? _

_He turned the charm around in his pocket. His smile darkened _

_This year wasn't turning out so bad after all…_

**--**

**Chapter 2: House Unity**

"_Sagen sie mir nicht, class Friede ausgebrochen ist._

_Don't tell me that peace has broken out"__**  
**__- Brecht, Bertolt, 'mother courage'_

"… And I hope that this will be the start of a wonderful adventure for each and every one of you. That you will thrive in this fertile environment…" The old coot droned on, while thoughtfully readjusting his half-moon spectacles.

Draco sighed dramatically; he was once again wedged uncomfortably between Crabbe and Goyle in the Great Hall.

The Sorting Hat, having just been taken away, saw the new students taking up residence at their respective house tables, receiving kindly slaps on the back and handshakes from their senior peers.

Draco took more interest in enchanting his cutlery to dance around his plate, having witnessed this pomp and ceremony enough times for it to become dreary and trite.

Besides, he had more important things on his mind than the first years.

He reached into his robes and withdrew the charm for the umpteenth time since he'd got off the train. Draco fisted the dried vegetable and glanced over to the Griffindor table.

He spied her easily enough, her white blonde hair standing out like a bright beacon.

She was sitting next to that simpering fool, Longbottom and directly opposite The Wonder-Trio. Draco willed her to look up and was rewarded, instead with Hermione's ugly scowl. She raised her wand and before Draco could grasp her intensions, his cutlery had fallen to his plate with a loud clatter.

All eyes in the hall turned to him and Dumbledore paused in mid-sentence.

Draco froze like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar. For what seemed like an eternity there was no sound whatsoever. The silence was deafening and all Draco could think about was all the ways he intended to disembowel that despicable Mudblood.

He put the charm back inside his robes.

Eventually, Dumbledore cleared his throat and resumed his speech.

"And, as I was saying…" Draco snorted derisively as he watched the scatterbrained fool try to recover his train of thought, "To more important matters… As you all know, the enmity between the four houses here at Hogwarts has become painfully apparent over these past few decades." Dumbledore stared over his glasses. Some students squirmed guiltily. "It has been brought to the attention of the Ministry and myself that this bitter rivalry can no longer continue.

In these dark times," this elicited a few sniggers from the Slytherin table, "We must look to you; the young witches and wizards, to set an example and give hope to those with none."

Draco wondered if the old bat's mind-numbing litany was putting anyone else to sleep. He made the mistake of glancing back to the Griffindor table. Potter, Weasley and Granger sat with rapturous expressions on their faces that only succeeded in setting off Draco's upchuck reflexes. Doltish Mountain trolls; taking everything that spewed forth from the old codger's mouth and believing it without question.

So gullible.

So careless with their trust.

His lip curled in disgust.

"That is why we have thought it best to introduce a new system of education. One that encourages house unity instead of animosity. New class seating plans have been drafted that seat a student with a member of the opposing house, for example; A Griffindor will be seated with a Slytherin, Hufflepuff with Ravenclaw." A rumble of disagreement spread through the assembled students. Dumbledore stood calmly waiting for silence, as if he had anticipated a similar response. "Quidditch matches and the house and cup will remain, however, house points will be awarded for public displays of cooperation and togetherness between houses." 

He pushed his spectacles up the bridge of his nose. 

"We hope that you can take to the new Hogwarts itinerary with the maturity we know you are all capable of." Draco rolled his gray eyes, resting his chin in his palm

His droning lasted a solid thirty minutes longer before it came time to introduce the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.

Draco withdrew his chin from his palm, stopped slouching and paid attention. He was curious to see who'd be stepping into the 'cursed position'.

Dumbledore turned to the faculty table, "Cepheus," He prompted.

A young man with long, black hair pulled back in a queue and deep burgundy robes stood and made his way around the table to replace Dumbledore on the dais. He surveyed the crowd of students through glowing silver eyes that didn't seem quite human. They seemed to withhold wisdom and secrets that belied his youthful appearance.

Draco could feel the hairs on the nape of his neck stand on end.

"Devoted Hogwarts students." He began, "My name is Cepheus Alderwolth, and as Professor Dumbledore said, I shall be filling the position of the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher." He paused and cocked his head slightly, as if waiting for objections.

When none came he continued, "I am looking forward to teaching you all and I can only hope that you're all looking forward to learning." His last sentence hung in the air and Draco couldn't help but interpret it as a threat. He shivered involuntarily.

Alderwolth made his way back to the teachers' table and Dumbledore rose one final time.

"Let us feast"

The last thing Draco felt like doing was eating. Ever since he'd been given the Dark Mark his eating patterns had become erratic. There'd been times when he'd eaten ravenously, but mostly, he'd been unable to hold down a solid meal for more than five minutes without bringing it straight back up again.

He looked queasily at the innumerable plates overflowing with food and felt his stomach churn. Crabbe and Goyle, having been made to wait longer than usual for their meal were now attacking the food with their bare hands, Grabbing fistfuls of whatever happened to be within reach and shoveling it into their mouths.

Draco stared blankly at his empty plate.

"sumfin' wrong mate?" Crabbe managed to spit out with a mouth full of pork rib, spraying partially chewed food everywhere. Draco wiped the mess off his face with a handkerchief and leveled his dim-witted companion a toxic glare. Crabbe gulped and tried to shuffle away, holding his greasy hands up in a placating gesture.

Draco tried to rein in his rage. The Dark Mark started throbbing. He resisted the urge to clamp a hand around his arm and gritted his teeth.

"Think before you open those flabby jowls," he hissed. "Disgusting…"

Crabbe breathed a sigh of relief, hardly believing he'd gotten off so easily.

Draco poured himself some Pumpkin Juice, wishing he had Fire Whiskey instead. He spent the rest of the feast sipping mechanically from his goblet. He ignored the clamor going on around him; the jeering and carefree banter of his peers. His thoughts were focused instead on the conversation he'd overheard on the train.

"_You are, aren't you? A couple, I mean…"_

How was he supposed to use this information to tear the Wonder Trio apart?

Draco definitely believed Weasley to be the chink in the chain; he seemed to be amazingly susceptible to his taunts with the slightest insult sending the redhead into blind fits of rage. He'd just have cast an aspersion or two about the Mudblood's virtue and the Weasel would leap to her defense, wand blazing.

Although that would be comical to watch, it didn't seem like the most expedient course of action to tear the three of them apart…

No, this called for tact and precision…

He sat on the hardwood bench, waiting for the farce to reach its conclusion.

.:0:.

Luna was so tired by the day's exertions that she was ready to head off to bed as soon as herself, Harry, Hermione, Ron (who still hadn't talked since the train) reached the Common room. Luna could only guess what was causing the tension between the tightly knit group of three but the hostility was palpable as they clambered through the Griffindor porthole.

They stumbled over the threshold with Neville, who had miraculously managed to forget the password and lock himself out within the first five hours of being at Hogwarts.

The password at the present moment was _Bat-Bogey_, which had been Ginny's contribution. This had brought forth a collective snigger from the Griffindor students as they remembered the curse she'd so cunningly placed on an unsuspecting Malfoy last year.

_I must make that boy a memory talisman;_ Luna cogitated, casting Neville a sidelong glance. _Maybe something with the nose-hairs of a Mountain Troll…_ She remembered reading somewhere once that they seemed to be very effective in regards to memory encoding. The moment she vocalized these thoughts, her friends fixed her with an expression caught between concern and amusement.

This managed to lighten the mood slightly. Ron snorted, Hermione elbowed him in the ribs and Harry watched this exchange with an unreadable expression on his face.

"I'm off to bed." Luna announced suddenly, wanting to relieve herself of the palpable tension. She headed towards the staircase, giving the trio one last troubled glance over her shoulder before retiring for the night.

Great Merlin's beard, I hope they're stronger than this…

.:0:.

Draco stood in front of one of the mirrors in the boys' lavatories; his pale visage stared back at him from the reflective surface almost mockingly. The feast had long since finished and the students had settled into their dorms to sleep or swap stories about how "eventful" their holidays were.

Draco couldn't care less about what happened to anyone else over their summer vacation.

The last thing he wanted to do was listen to some witless fool carry on about anecdote after redundant anecdote so he had escaped to the blessed seclusion of the toilets.

The room itself, situated relatively close to the Slytherin Common Room, was always poorly lit and a rumor had been circulated that Peeves (most likely _by_ Peeves) had been known to frequent it, it was usually disserted.

He found himself coming here more and more to sort through his frenzied thoughts.

Draco leant heavily on the basin and pressed his forehead against the cool glass. He let out a long breath, clamping his eyes shut.

_What am I supposed to do about father?_

A pair of cold hands snaked around his chest. "I thought I'd find you here," A sultry voice purred in his ear.

His eyes snapped open and he stood up straight.

"Parkinson." He spat.

She grinned widely, watching him in the mirror.

Her hands made their way down to his stomach, moving in a way he could only assume she thought to be seductive. Draco tried to twist out of her suffocating embrace, which only resulted in her tightening her hold.

He grabbed her hands, squeezing painfully, "This stops. Now."

That gave her pause.

"But Drakey-poos-"

"I told you NEVER to call me that-" He gritted.

Pansy carried on, seemingly unheeded, "What about our betrothal? Ever since we were children we were destined to be together, daddy saw to that... So did Lucius…"

Draco blanched at the mention of his father.

Pansy extricated her hands from his and slid them up to caress the smooth planes of his face, "Last year you couldn't keep your hands off me… So what's changed? What's wrong?"

Draco turned sharply to face her, "I don't want to discuss it." His flinty eyes narrowed, "Least of all with _you_."

"C'mon, you sure you don't want to share?" She pouted prettily moving her hands down his body with renewed vigor.

_Does she think this is some kind of perverse game?_ He thought as her hand reached his abdomen. His fingers dug into the cold metal washbasin behind him.

_Take her_. An insidious voice in his head demanded with growing intensity.

"I'm serious, Parkinson, back off." The Dark Mark started to throb painfully as his anger mounted. He felt his control slipping.

She laughed throatily as her hands clumsily groped his crotch.

Draco felt his eyes glaze over.

He grabbed her violently by the shoulders and pinned her to the mirror with enough force to crack the glass. He pressed his body flush against hers, burying his head in the hollow of her throat. "Is this what you want?" He breathed in her ear as he trailed a skilled hand under her pleated skirt and up the soft flesh of her inner thigh.

He lifted his head to study her face.

Draco's hand froze.

Nothing could hide the fear painted across her face. Her breathing was erratic and he felt slight tremors through her body.

He recoiled from her as if stung.

Pansy fell to the floor with an ungraceful _thud_. She lay motionless, too stunned to move.

Draco drew his hands to his face, examining them as if they were foreign appendages.

_What the fuck just Happened?_

He looked from his hands to the quivering mess that was Parkinson, then back to his hands again.

Draco had never forced himself on a woman before… he'd never had to, and this experience had left him feeling vile and depraved. It was as if some alien being had temporarily seized control of his body and he'd merely been a puppet, a spectator to its whims.

Draco glanced up at his reflection in the fractured surface. He inhaled sharply. It wasn't _his_ reflection that stared back at him but that of The Dark Lord. His thin lips twisted into a grotesque rictus, his serpentine eyes glinted. He extended a translucent arm, pointing an accusatory finger.

Draco looked away and clamped his eyes shut, horrified.

When he looked back, however, there was nothing but his own face staring back at him through the cobweb of splintered glass. Draco shook his head and turned to Pansy, who'd retreated to a grimy corner of the bathroom, still sobbing quietly.

He crossed the room and bent down slowly to help her up. She shied away from him, emitting a strangled cry like a wounded animal.

Draco sighed, "I'm sorry, look.." He gingerly placed a hand on her shoulder. Pansy shrieked, shoved him away and fled from the room, wailing like a banshee.

Draco watched her leave, his face an empty void.

.:0:.

Luna awoke on her first day of classes in surprisingly good spirits. The omnipresent cloud of evil that had been following her these past few weeks had dissipated, although this was probably due to the Snaffle-Gouger purging she had been religiously undertaking every morning and night, she rationalized.

Regardless, the crisp, predawn air bespoke of the birth of a beautiful day.

.:0:.

Ron seriously doubted that the day could get any worse; he'd somehow managed to sleep fifteen minutes later than he was supposed to (Harry, with malice aforethought, must've let him sleep in), he'd missed breakfast and had now managed to forget the location of the Potions Room. Running late on his first class on his first day back…Ron could almost sense the detentions on the horizon.

Ron knew that Harry was still feeling upset about what had transpired on the train yesterday. He frowned as he passed a group of second years that sniggered at his disheveled appearance. Harry was acting so childish about it; he knew how Ron felt about Hermione and he acted like their blossoming relationship was an abominable betrayal: as if Ron had crawled into bed with Voldemort and asked for a bedtime story.

He stopped and shuddered as the images slithered unbidden into his mind.

Ron mentally shook himself and rounded the final corner, the potions room door in sight. He inhaled sharply, steeling himself, and pushed the heavy wooden door, which groaned loudly in protest.

It didn't take his eyes long to acclimatize to the murkiness. At the creaking of the door all pairs of eyes turned suddenly to him. Ron gulped and hesitantly closed the door behind him; even Grimuld Place possessed a more welcoming atmosphere.

"Mr. Weasley." Snape crooned, "How nice of you to grace us with your presence."

There was a spattering of sniggers.

The professor waited for the noise to die down, seemingly encouraged by the reaction, "I was merely instructing your fellow classmates on the importance of punctuality and presentation." He pinned Ron with a hard, obsidian glower. He gulped, clutching his textbooks tighter fearing the coming storm in the midst of the calm.

Snape's gaze lifted to once again address the whole class. The Professor cleared his throat, "Now, as Professor Dumbledore has so blatantly pointed out, this year is about promoting unity between the houses," His tone sardonic, "Take a good hard look at your neighbor. If you're not that well acquainted with them, don't fret, for you'll become very familiar with each other throughout the course of the year."

His penetrating stare returned to Ron. There was a serpentine grin plastered smugly on his greasy face, "Mr. Weasley, say hello to you study partner for the year." He extended a black-clad arm to the only vacant seat in the classroom.

Ron caught sympathetic gazes from fellow Griffindors as he followed the direction of Professor Snape's outstretched sleeve. His eyes settled on the empty seat and the desks other occupant and he felt his blood turn to ice and his stomach plummet to his knees.

Snape gave one last look of triumph and resumed his instruction.

Eyes as gray and cold as steel challenged Ron's look of utter dismay from underneath flaxen bangs.

.:0:.

Draco couldn't believe he'd been stuck with the Weasel as a lab partner for the duration of the school year! He couldn't wait to inform his father of this horrific injustice. Being partnered to this penniless buffoon for the whole year exacerbated his long list of personal problems that seemed to steadily bourgeoning out of control.

He shot a death glare at the fiery redhead, which was returned with equal ferocity.

As Weasley trudged down the neat row of desks, Draco made no attempts to move his books, which were spread haphazardly over the surface. Ron went to pull out the vacant seat but Draco moved faster, hooking a long limb around the leg, rooting it to the spot, despite Ron's desperate tugs.

He grinned darkly, caressing his quill under his chin thoughtfully.

Ron's soft brown eyes hardened. "Move," He gritted out between clenched teeth.

"I'm sorry Weasley." Draco voice dripped with venom, "The space that's left is all you can afford, unfortunately. Considering the threadbare condition of those hand-me-down robes you have on, you're lucky I let you on the desk at all." He scrunched his nose in contempt at Weasley's shabby clothing.

Draco smiled inwardly as Ron's face went the same shade of his hair.

Their bickering caught the attention of the other students and eventually Snape himself. He paused, "Is everything alright or do you two need to sort it out in detention? I'm sure Filch will be more than accommodating to help you sort out this petty squabble."

"Nothing's wrong sir." Draco piped up, his features angelic. He unhooked his foot from around the chair.

Ron muttered something unintelligible and undoubtedly derogatory and gave the chair one final tug. Expecting to meet with resistance, having the seat give way sent Ron and his things sprawling to the grimy floor.

The class erupted into laughter and Draco allowed a satisfied smirk to grace his lips. He took note of how uncomfortable Ron looked under the Professor's scrutinous gaze.

Ron quickly gathered his books off the floor, slammed them down on his side of the desk the look of utter embarrassment never leaving his face.

Draco looked around to see that his witless companions looked equally miserable; Longbottom was seated next to Goyle and he appeared to be gagging. Draco surmised that Goyle must've eaten one-too-many eggs at breakfast from the look of Longbottom's face, which was presently taking on a purple hue.

"Can anyone tell me the function of a Frulisian Mushroom and where they are found?"

Draco didn't need to think twice about the owner of the only hand in the room that shot up. He glanced at Granger, then at Parkinson, who was seated unhappily next to her.

Snape performed two sweeps of the room before settling on the Mudblood.

"Yes, Miss Granger, dazzle us."

She appeared to be momentarily taken aback by his snide tone, but it didn't take her long to overcome it, not wanting to miss an opportunity to shove her knowledge in everyone's faces.

Draco's lip curled.

"It's an antidote, known to counteract the bite of a Sharp-Tooth Toad, which could otherwise prove to be fatal. They are located in thickly forested areas and are indigenous to the Carpathian hinterland, but can be grown virtually anywhere given the correct environment."

Draco rolled his eyes at the textbook response.

"Ten points from Griffindor for not cooperating by giving your classmates an opportunity to reply to the question." Snape smirked whilst Hermione looked mortified.

Draco spied Potter sitting three desks ahead of him. His face was contorted in barely controlled rage. Crabbe, who was sitting next to him, however, broke into peals of laughter.

Snape's eyes narrowed to dangerous slits, no longer willing to be interrupted.

Draco seized his opportunity to bait Weasley, he leaned over and whispered, "Maybe it's about time you taught that Mudblood to do more useful things with that tongue of hers... I could give you a few pointers if you like."

He laughed internally as Ron clammed up, the muscles in his back tensed and a steady tic developed in his jaw. "You take that back." He spat.

Hermione, who'd been watching the heated exchange, but had thankfully been out of earshot, motioned for silence.

Parkinson's reedy voice cut across the squabble, "Oh stop it Granger. Everybody's sick of your sanctimonious attitude. All because you were cursed with brains instead of boobs." Hermione could only gape as she looked from her own willowy form to Pansy's over-endowed bosom.

"I wouldn't exactly label brains as a curse, at least Hermione won't get black eyes when she runs." Came the voice that made all the hairs at the nape of Draco's neck stand on end and shivers down his spine. He turned slowly to be caught in Luna's crystalline gaze. Blaise, who was slouched in his seat beside her, glanced from Draco, to Luna then settled back on his friend and gave a lazy, lop-sided grin, his cobalt eyes shining with mischief.

It was at that moment when things spiraled out of control.

Snape sent emerald green sparks flying from his wand and shouted, "Enough!"

There was a deafening silence, which was blessedly broken by the shrill sound of the school bell.

The students breathed a collective sigh of relief as they began to collect their books, eager to escape the wrath of the cantankerous professor.

"Not so fast." They all froze.

"Parkinson, Granger, Potter, Weasley, Malfoy, Zabini, Lovegood, Longbottom, for today's sickening display of misconduct and riotous behavior you will each have five house points deducted and receive two months detention."

"Don't you think that's a _slight_ exaggeration sir, I mean, I wouldn't exactly call our behavior 'riotous'" Blaise spoke for the first time since entering the room.

Snape gave the illusion of mulling over the raven-haired boy's unwarranted opinion.

"Make that three months detention."

Draco quickly grabbed his friend by the hood of his robe and dragged him out of the room before he made the situation any worse, leaving behind the remaining Griffindors and Parkinson, who still refused to meet his gaze since the toilet incident.

Once they'd left the dank classroom Draco dropped Blaise's hood and turned to leave, having made the conscious decision to skip his next class and blow off some pent up steam.

"So… How long have you been sleeping with Loopy?"

Draco nearly tripped over himself, startled by the directness of the question.

He spun slowly, thankful that the hallway was deserted. "What makes you say something so inane? She's a _Griffindor_, for Merlin's sake." He put the right amount of upper-class snobbery in his voice, enough to dupe the average person, but Blaise was not to be deterred.

"Oh, nothing… Just the lust-ridden gazes you where throwing at her in class before. You looked like you were ready to throw back your chair and roger her on the desk."

Draco kept his face impassive, "You have a poet's gift of exaggeration, Zabini. Maybe you should just quit school and spend the rest of your life composing verse."

Blaise snorted at his friend's dry sense of humor, a side of him, which, Blaise was sure, no other person got to see. "Yeah, I'm sure daddy-dearest'd love to hear that."

Draco, thinking of no appropriate way to end the conversation simply nodded a silent goodbye and about-faced, heading off in the direction of the lake; brooding seemed to be a much more productive use of his time than spending it cooped up in some dusty old classroom.

His expensive black shoes struck the floor, the sound reverberating off the cold gray stones of the hallway.

**--**

FOOTNOTE:

The next chapter will be called** Stuck In A Rut**

… There'll be a few D&Ms and the first DADA class


	3. Chapter 3: Stuck in a Rut

AN: I DON'T OWN ANYTHING all Harry Potter characters are property of J

26

**AN: I DON'T OWN ANYTHING all Harry Potter characters are property of J.K Rowling!! **

Thanks to all those who are reading this, I've had over seven hundred hits, which, as Ron would say, is "Bloody fantastic."

Although this fan fiction is shaping up to be Draco-centric (no complaints here, lol), I decided to start this chapter off from Luna's Point of View. I thought we were due for some Pearls of Lovegood Wisdom .

Happy reading,

Tacos-For-All

_POST SCRIPT: does anyone want to beta for me?? I know my grammar and punctuation is appalling. Spiral Flowers? Is the offer still on the table? :P_

Wow, that has to be my shortest Author's note ever… bravo for me

**Quick Recap:**

"_So… How long have you been sleeping with Loopy?"_

_Draco nearly tripped over himself, startled by the directness of the question. _

_He spun slowly, thankful that the hallway was deserted. "What makes you say something so inane? She's a Griffindor, for Merlin's sake." He put the right amount of upper-class snobbery in his voice, enough to dupe the average person, but Blaise was not to be deterred._

"_Oh, nothing… Just the lust-ridden gazes you where throwing at her in class before. You looked like you were ready to throw back your chair and roger her on the desk."_

_Draco kept his face impassive, "You have a poet's gift of exaggeration, Zabini. Maybe you should just quit school and spend the rest of your life composing verse."_

_Blaise snorted at his friend's dry sense of humor, a side of him, which, Blaise was sure, no other person got to see. "Yeah, I'm sure daddy-dearest'd love to hear that."_

_Draco, thinking of no appropriate way to end the conversation simply nodded a silent goodbye and about-faced, heading off in the direction of the lake; brooding seemed to be a much more productive use of his time than spending it cooped up in some dusty old classroom._

_His expensive black shoes struck the floor, the sound reverberating off the cold gray stones of the hallway__._

_--_

Chapter 3: Stuck In A Rut

"_Idle people are often bored _

_And bored people,_

_Unless they sleep a lot,_

_Are cruel. _

It is not accident

_That boredom and cruelty, _

_Are great preoccupations_

_Of our time."_

_- Adler, Renata, 'speedboat' _

Luna watched the Griffindor Quidditch team practice from her place in the stands. Hermione nattered cheerfully next to her, and Luna was content to let her fill the silence. Luna was contemplating the best way to fashion a pair of dried apricot Anti-Wapslark earring-charms when the chatting suddenly halted.

She turned to see Hermione looking at her expectantly. Having lost thread of the one-sided conversation back at the injustice of a three-month detention, Luna could only stare into Hermione's chocolate brown eyes with a vacuous expression. Her friend obviously noted her confusion and repeated her question with an exasperated sigh, "I said, '_did you manage to find a special someone on the summer break'?_"

Luna paused, trying desperately to collect her scattered thoughts into some semblance of a response. "Not really, no"

When Luna didn't elaborate, Hermione huffed. Getting pertinent sentences out of the spaced-out blond was like trying to withdraw blood from a stone.

After forming a relationship with Ron, Hermione had now taken it upon herself to play "Miss Match-Maker" and Luna wasn't all that sure she liked this somewhat meddlesome side of her frizzy-haired companion.

To make matters worse, Luna didn't rank finding a boyfriend high on her list of priorities… in fact it was lucky to even rate a mention. This reason, _seemingly_, gave Hermione sufficient excuse to pry into Luna's private life. At the beginning Luna had thought it was cute, but now, it was annoying.

They both turned their attention back to the Quidditch players.

"Having training on the first day back;" Hermione cocked her head to the side, "Harry's intent to have them do well this year." They easily spied the raven-haired captain executing a series of death defying twists, turns and barrel rolls up and down the length of the pitch.

"I can't wait to see the looks on those pompous Slytherins' faces when we rub their Pureblood noses in the dirt."

Luna was momentarily stunned by her friend's candor. "Yes... it should prove to be quite a match."

Hermione sighed wistfully and Luna followed her line of sight to Ron, who grinned awkwardly and waved.

Hermione returned the gesture shyly, diverting Ron's attention from the Bludger that came soaring towards his head.

"BLOODY HELL," He cursed loudly as the hard, black projectile flew within an inch of decapitating him.

Harry drew his broom up beside Ron's, "Heads," He stated humorlessly.

They stared at each other for a few moments. Dark brown eyes challenged verdant green in a silent battle of wills.

"Get your head in the game, Weasley." Harry barked, sounding more like a tyrannical drill sergeant than a team captain. He circled Ron in a wide arch before squaring his shoulders and flying off to join his other teammates.

Ron shot a dark look at his receding figure, _"'Get your head in the game',"_ He mimicked in a high-pitched falsetto.

Hermione and Luna sat, watching the heated interaction with mounting concern.

"You really need to confront Harry about this. If you want to keep your friendship with him and relationship with Ron you should move fast or you risk loosing them both."

Hermione was stunned by Luna's searing insight. "Words are always so much easier than actions, Luna." She shook her head slowly, sending wild brown locks flying across her shoulder. "Saying I'll mend the broken bridges between us doesn't make achieving the task any simpler... I just... Don't know what I'm going to do." She put her head in her hands and began kneading her temples.

Hermione's shoulders sagged with an invisible weight.

"I could always make you a Pixie Dung amulet."

Hermione laughed throatily.

.:0:.

It was a bright, chilly morning in the Hogwarts Dining Hall. Enchanted fires burned merrily in hearths completely devoid of smoke and ash, and the large room was full exited students loudly discussing their class schedules, homework and other things that Draco had absolutely no desire to glean knowledge of.

The fact was that the noise and heat were insufferable. He sat; hunched glumly over a plebeian meal he had no intention of eating, in a room that was slowly suffocating him. He picked up his fork and proceeded to toy with his food, sculpting his scrambled eggs into a sad face, before mashing it beyond recognition, only to repeat the process. His shoulder length hair formed a protective blond curtain over his face.

"Careful, if you keep acting this depressed, you may actually turn Goyle off his appetite." Blaise, who had just joined the feast, plucked a shining, red apple from the table and began polishing it on his school jumper.

Draco looked doubtful as he watched Goyle inhale his tenth cupcake and then reach for another rasher of bacon. He brushed his fringe out of his eyes and gave Blaise a wry smile.

"You still seem to have an abnormally large chip on your shoulder but for the meantime I guess that'll have to do." Blaise cast a worried eye over his friend's malnourished form. Draco's shoulders were drooped with an indiscernible weight; his gray eyes, cloudy and unfocused, were sunken in a face white as parchment.

He also looked thin, too thin.

Blaise wondered why no one else seemed to notice Draco's rapidly deteriorating health when he suddenly had a startling epiphany.

Nobody cared about Draco Malfoy.

Nobody cared that he may have been starving himself or that he was turning into an insomniac or on the verge of a mental breakdown.

Draco had no friends; people either hated him or were too afraid of him to hate him… Like Crabbe and Goyle…

The reality of Draco's isolated existence hit him like a dive in the icy waters of the Hogwarts Lake.

"Would you stop looking at me like that; you'll bore holes in the back of my head if you stare any harder." Draco was unsettled by the pitying gazes Blaise was throwing his direction.

Draco had lived a lifetime being ignored by his parents, despised by his peers and even feared by a select few; but he had never been the subject of pathos before and it made him feel womanly and weak.

Draco Malfoy loathed weakness.

Draco bristled as Blaise straddled the bench next to him, "I don't want your pity." He snapped, banging his fork down on the table and climbing out of the bench.

"I wasn't hungry anyway." He uttered, turning away from his friend's incredulous stare.

As he was leaving the hall, he looked to the Griffindor table and met with a pair of brilliant blue eyes. Luna's bold gaze seemed to peer straight through him. Draco had never felt more exposed in his life, as her stare seemed to probe and penetrate. She suddenly turned to Hermione and the spell was broken.

Draco silently admonished himself for being so paranoid. He shook his head as if to physically remove all thoughts of Loopy from his mind.

Draco told himself that she was not worth his time.

.:0:.

The air was thick with anticipation at the thought of the first class of Defense Against the Dark Arts with the mysterious Professor Cepheus Alderwolth. The whole class had broken off into excited chatter, looking forward to what surprises lay in the lesson ahead.

Draco, however, was NOT looking forward to the experience. There was something incredibly unsettling about Alderwolth and Draco wasn't entirely sure that he wanted to find out what that "something" was.

He cast a cursory glance to the seat next to him. Weasley lay slumped miserably over the desk, head resting on his crossed arms, looking like he'd fallen into a cavernous pit of Blast-ended Skrewts. Draco chuckled humorlessly at the anywhere-but-here expression painted plainly across his features.

He leaned back casually, folding his arms over his chest.

"What's that Weasel?" He said, making sure his voice carried over the din, "_'every moment without Potter by your side is unbearable torture and it's tearing you up inside?'_"

There was a spattering of sniggers as Ron's face turned ashen, then morphed into a ripe-tomato hue. "There's no need to include me in your little lover's spat. I'm sure old Scar-face'll forgive you soon enough and you can go back to your long nights spooning together… I only have one question to ask," Draco leaned down towards Ron's face, which was now quivering with rage, "Are you the big spoon or the little spoon?"

The room erupted into peals of laughter. "That's it, Malfoy." Ron seethed, reaching for his wand.

"Children," The tone was reprimanding, mocking, "Although I appreciate your zeal, I would prefer that it was directed towards your studies and not such self destructive behavior as petty squabbling."

The silence that followed was deafening.

Professor Alderwolth stood in his rich claret robes, silently regarding his classroom of students with his glowing inhuman gaze.

"That's much better," He said, more to himself as he made his way to the blackboard, which had _'Defense Against the Dark Arts'_ scribed on the midnight surface in flawless cursive.

Students now hastened to ready quills, parchment and textbooks. All students except Hermione, who'd, much to Parkinson's disgust, organized her effects as soon as she'd sat down. She sat primly in her seat, quill at the ready and it took all of Parkinson's resolve not to upend the contents of her inkpot on Hermione's Frizzy head._ Her hair would probably just absorb all the ink anyway_, Pansy thought, sneering.

"Now," He began without further encouragement, "This being your sixth year of studying Defense Against the Dark arts, I'm sure I don't need to impress upon you the utmost importance of the skills and knowledge you will learn in this class. Skills that may one day save your life should the worst-case scenario occur." The white chalk rose of it's own accord and, underneath _Defense Against the Dark Arts'_, wrote _'only to be implemented in the worst-case scenario'_ in that same, impeccable script.

"Which brings me to my next point; hopefully you won't have to use these skills, hopefully you will all be able to live out your lives without experiencing the horrors of the darker side of magic firsthand."

Alderwolth turned and stared directly into Draco's eyes, and for several heartbeats he was trapped in their silver depths like a frightened hare caught in the path of a voracious wolf.

Suddenly, Draco was falling. His mind screamed as darkness enveloped him.

.:0:.

_He was standing in what appeared to be a black and white version of Malfoy Manor Library. Everything appeared filtered, slightly distorted, like he was witnessing his surroundings through a grimy pane of glass. _

_His mind instantly recognized the impersonal mahogany desk, the large white marble fireplace and surrounding three walls sporting floor-to-ceiling shelves lined with books in perfect symmetrical rows. _

_Draco absently remembered wandering into the library as a curious eight-year old and removing one of the dusty tomes from it's designated place. His father, Lucius, had caught him in the act and delivered a sound beating that had left Draco black and blue for a month. _

_Narcissa did nothing when she discovered what her husband had done to her only child. She just fixed a wailing Draco with a trained glazed expression. Explaining with a detached calm that he, 'should keep away from his father's things.'_

_Draco's thoughts scattered as the door to the Library was thrown open with such ferocity it nearly flew from its hinges. A black clad figure stumbled clumsily into the room, clutching his side as if wounded. _

_Even hunched in pain under the flowing ebony fabric, Draco could tell by the height and breadth of shoulder that it was a man._

_He backed away from the door, expecting whoever or whatever was pursuing him to be following hot on his heels. So focused on the door, the man didn't realize his proximity to the thick rug until it was too late. He became entangled, lost his footing, and fell with a loud thud on his back._

_Draco rushed forward to help. He reached for the man's arm, but his hand sailed through the limb as if it was incorporeal. He placed his hand on the man's chest, only to yield the same result. Draco examined his hands, confused and slightly afraid by this new development._

_The man lay on his back wheezing, the fall obviously winding him. As he lay there, the cowl became dislodged, slipping back to allow Draco a clear view of the man's face. Draco was shocked when he saw the aristocratic features of his father, marred by various cuts and grazes. _

_He had a healing claw-mark down the left side of his face like he'd had a run-in with Crookshanks and lost. Lucius also had a hideously swollen black eye and a split lip, which looked fresher, the blood forming dark globules down his chin. _

_Although it wasn't the wounds that alarmed Draco the most, it was the raw fear he saw in his father's eyes. _

_His father gave a strangled yelp, a cornered animal._

_Draco could feel the hair stand on the back of his neck and knew that his father's pursuer was at the door. _

_He turned slowly, with an ominous sense of foreboding, and came face to face with himself. _

_His face contorted in an ugly snarl, he stalked into the room with the grace and precision of a predatory beast. "How could you do that to her?" He heard himself accuse his father, who was shrinking closer to the fireplace. _

"_P-please," was the only thing his father managed to stammer._

_He saw himself scoff, "So now your begging for you life like a sniveling coward? Tell me, father, did you ever stop when I pleaded blow after blow? Did you grant her any mercy before you…" Draco choked off, too emotional to continue._

_He drew a shaky breath in an attempt to compose himself. "It's clear to me now." He took a step towards his father and withdrew his wand from his robes, "An eye for an eye; what you did her can only be paid in kind and it will be paid with your blood." _

_He then watched himself raise his wand and level it with cold malice at his cowering father's chest. _

_Everything was suspended in slow motion as Draco heard the words, "Avada Kedavra," fall from his lips. _

.:0:.

Draco regained consciousness with a scream lodged in his throat. He looked franticly around the classroom; everything remained unchanged. The students had their heads down, busily note-taking. Well, Ron appeared to just have his head down, snoring softly into his parchment.

_A dream_? He thought absently. _No, far too real_. His palms felt clammy as he clenched them into fists on top of the desk. The Dark Mark began to pulsate, sending bolts of pain shooting up his arm.

The school bell shrilled.

"And thus concludes today's lesson." Alderwolth turned from the blackboard and smiled in what Draco could only interpret as hollow. "Don't forget to read chapters 3 through 9."

Draco could feel his skin erupt into gooseflesh; sweat trickled down the valley of his spine and his heartbeat pounded a staccato rhythm in his ears. There was a flurry of movement around him as students collected their things and left for their next lesson.

"Nurggghhh," Ron said as he awoke with a start, the sheaf of paper sticking comically to the right side of his face.

"You're pathetic, Weasley." Draco managed before he haphazardly piled his things together and bolted out the door, purposely avoiding any eye contact with the professor.

.:0:.

It was the eve of their first detention and none of the eight students looked happy as they trudged up the great winding staircase to the library.

They had been given explicit instruction from Snape that they were to spend the evening re-shelving every book that was left lying around by previous Hogwarts students and teaching faculty.

That alone did not seem like such a laborious task, but the smug smirk on the greasy Professor face as he delivered this news didn't fill Luna with confidence.

She'd never encountered a human being that filled her with more dread than he did. To Luna, his name was synonymous with malice and every minute spent in the horror that was his company were minutes that she would rather forget.

Draco pulled Blaise aside in the stairwell and waited for the others to pass them; "I need to talk to you about something." He whispered.

Blaise cocked an eyebrow but refused to comment.

Draco took a deep breath, "I–"

"Stop dawdling you two," Pansy screeched, "Don't think you can get out of detention that easily."

Draco blanched, her voice reminded him of nails on a chalkboard.

"Later then." There was humor to Zabini's tone as they both turned and ascended the stairs to catch up with the others.

They reached the entrance to the library and as they crossed the threshold, Luna could feel her stomach drop to her knees.

Books heaped into Aegean piles teetered precariously on tables, chairs and any other surface area that was readily available. Dusty tomes as big as Luna's torso bumped spines with new compact textbooks culminating in a mountainous leather-bound mess that made it appear as if a centaur herd had come stampeding through.

"This should be easy," Ron said, pulling out his wand.

"No Ron, Professor Snape gave us specific instruction not to use magic, remember?" Hermione countered.

"You'd better listen to your girlfriend, Weasley. Besides, what with your bumbling ineptitude and hand-me-down wand, you'd be more likely to set the library on fire than doing anything even remotely constructive." Draco stated dryly as he moved towards the closest stack of books.

Luna shook her head, silently reprimanding him. The charm she had given him obviously wasn't working as well as she'd hoped: he was still lashing out at everyone and she had the distinct impression that some cruel and nasty critter was behind it…maybe there was something in the Quibbler that would be able to point her in the right direction.

She made a mental note to herself to check the latest issue when she got back to the dormitory.

Hermione placed a placating hand on Ron's shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze, stopping him before he did anything stupid.

"Okay," She instantly took charge of the situation; "There are…" She performed a quick head count, "Eight of us here, right?" Draco groaned inwardly as he sensed the beginning of one of the Mud-blood's aggravating rhetorical lectures, "And I can assume that none of us want to be here all night?" Hermione continued, her brow knitted in concentration, "I think the most expedient way to get this cleaning done is to pair off into four groups of two. Any questions?"

"Yes," Sneered Pansy, "Exactly how far is that wand shoved up your-"

"Asking questions is a waste of time when we should be cleaning up." Blaise quickly cut her off as he moved to stand next to his friend, "I'll go with Draco."

This caused Parkinson to humph, scowl and turn down her bottom lip in a petulant gesture. Draco was relived and irked that she had gotten over what had happened in the toilet and was back to her annoyingly clingy self.

Hermione started towards Harry, seizing the opportunity to have some time alone with him to sort things out, "Don't bother," He spat, easily reading the expression on her face. He turned his back on her and walked to Neville.

Luna, realizing that Hermione would pair off with Ron, resigned herself to being with Pansy. She gave an anguished sigh, felt around in the pockets of her robe for her ginseng macaroni centering charm, and drifted towards Parkinson.

Luna caught her friend mouthing a silent apology out the corner of her eye.

"Now that everybody has a partner, we'll each take an area to…" Hermione realized there was no point in continuing her tirade as the students had begun working without her and Blaise and Draco were no-where to be seen.

_Shirking responsibility already, and it hasn't even been ten minutes_, she thought glumly, _this is going to be a long night_.

.:0:.

"Does the new Defense teacher seem a little strange to you?"

Blaise hadn't noticed anything peculiar, "No… why?"

"Oh, nothing… there's just something about him that seems a little… off." Draco shook his head, "Never mind."

"What was it that you were so desperate to tell me before?" Blaise quickly glanced at a spine and shelved another book without turning to meet his friend's gaze.

"I wasn't entirely honest with you." Draco crossed his arms defensively and leaned on the shelving.

"Oh?"

"I seem to be harboring some kind of _feeling_ for Loony Lovegood…" He paused waiting for a reaction from his friend. When none came he continued, "How do I make it stop?"

"Well, you could start by not calling her 'loony'." He found another vacant space and shelved another dusty volume, "Name-calling is childish and the refuge of the ignorant." Suddenly, Blaise sounded a lot older than seventeen.

"And?"

"And what you could be feeling for Lovegood may not be… Excuse me" Blaise roughly nudged Draco out of the way and shelved another book. "Directed at her physically, but what she represents."

Draco ran a tired hand through his blond hair, getting fed up with his friend's cryptic analysis, "Which is?"

"Something novel. Something new and exciting. But most importantly – something untouchable. "

"There are lots of girls at this school I wouldn't touch."

He shook his head slowly, "You're missing the point."

"I'm getting very sick of this conversation very quickly, Blaise." Draco felt his irritation mounting with each sentence, "Tell it to me straight or I'll hex you."

Blaise's dark blue eyes glittered with amusement, his perfect smile revealed a pair of perfect dimples and Draco wanted nothing more than to punch that knowing smirk off his face, "You're stuck in a rut," He explained with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders.

He shelved the last book he was holding and turned back to their designated book pile.

"What, that's it?" Draco threw his hands up in the air in a gesture of utter frustration. He jogged after Blaise, "I'm 'stuck in a rut'?"

"Okay, I'm going to have to explain this very slowly because you're obviously having a very hard time grasping a concept a twelve-year-old would understand."

Draco pulled out his wand, "Don't you dare patronize me, Zabini. Just because I tolerate your presence doesn't make us allies."

Blaise didn't appear phased by Draco's show of bravado, he merely grabbed another stack of books, "You know, we've been here for almost two hours and I haven't seen you pick up one book."

Draco studied his impeccably manicured nails, "Manual labor is beneath my station, yours too. You should just let Potter and his fabulous minions do everything." He tucked his wand back into his pocket.

Blaise just sighed, his expression unreadable. He slowly made his way to another area of the library balancing the books in his hands like a drunken circus clown. Draco had no other option but to tag along behind him.

"If you want answers, you're going to have to help me."

"I don't _have_ to do anything, I'm a Malfoy."

"Yes you to, this is detention and your family name has absolutely nothing to do with it. The fact remains that we're all in this together and if you want to be out of here by the time lessons start tomorrow morning I strongly suggest you help me with this."

Draco, against his better judgment, reached out and took half of Blaise's pile. "Who knows where these books have been… what if I catch something?"

"Does being this much of a snob requires grueling practice or does it just come naturally to you?"

"Equal parts both." Draco replied Dismissively; slotting a dusty tome in the first empty place he could find not bothering to see if it belonged there.

Trying to steer the conversation back to its original course, Draco prompted, "Back to what we were discussing before…"

"What does Pansy do if you reject her?"

Draco failed to see how this was applicable, "She licks her wounds, swallows what's left of her minuscule pride and is back to irritating me by the next day."

"What does Potter do when you goad him?"

"Nine out of ten times he takes the moral high ground; refuses to take the bait and ignores me."

"What do you do when you're at home?"

"Pretend I'm somewhere else."

Blaise cringed at the frankness of the statement.

The blatant truth about how miserably his parents treated him was something Draco didn't try to conceal, "You're life appears, to you anyway, to be stuck in a loop of events. Your relationships and home life remain unchanged. Then, completely out of nowhere, BAM; along comes Lovegood to throw a spanner in the works."

Draco frowned at the unfamiliar metaphor; sometimes Blaise said the most peculiar things, which Draco found endearing and confusing at the same time. Although the last phrase threw him off slightly, he understood the gist of what his friend was saying. "So what you're saying is that my life is so fraught with tedium that I'm using her as an escape from it?"

"Precisely"

_He couldn't be farther from the truth_, Draco thought, _still, I'll humor him for now_,"So how do I make it stop?"

"You could sleep with her."

He blustered indignantly, "And exactly how is that supposed to help?"

"Couldn't hurt, right?" A quick glance at the dour expression on Draco's face told Blaise that the blonde didn't appreciate his sense of humor.

"She doesn't appear to loathe you like the rest of the Griffindors do. Odds are if you seduce her, slept with her you'd get over this bizarre fascination you have for her and you'll be able to get on with your life."

"That's it!" Draco slammed the books down dramatically.

"Hah, I knew you'd see my perverted line of reasoning eventually."

"No, she _doesn't_ _loathe _me. Maybe if I treat her especially horribly, you know; be a REAL bastard she'll get so offended that she'll leave me alone and never want to so much as look in my direction ever again. " Draco grinned, plans already forming in his head. "It's foolproof. I'll start by getting rid of this." He withdrew the charm she'd given him on the train from his pocket.

"You've had that thing in your robes for two days now?"

"What of it?" Draco demanded hotly.

"Oh, nothing." Blaise gave a small, enigmatic smile.

Draco scowled but didn't push the matter any further.

He threw the charm under the bookshelf, feeling strangely empty without it. He quelled that thought as quickly as it had surfaced.

"It will be easy to make her hate me; I've done it to everybody else."

Blaise was about to contradict him but thought better of it. Instead he knelt down and began collecting the books that Draco had discarded. _What a horrendous mess of a school year this is turning out to be_. He thought. He also had an insidious feeling in his guts that this was just a foreshadowing of things to come…

­­

Again, my sincerest apologies for the update time - My muse, she is a fickle creature and capricious with her affections, lol

Aaanway, the next chapter will be called **Thin Façade** and a new player will be introduced…. And we definitely will have a Quidditch match.

Thank you for reading and reviewing!


	4. Chapter 4: Thin Facade

_LEGAL DISCLAIMER: I don't own nothin', everything is property of J. K Rowling... Harry, Harry's shoes, Harry's glasses, yes, even Harry's wand... sorry, I couldn't help myself_

**AN:** I want to thank **the original pronglet**, **quivering quill**, **xdracomalfoysgirlx**, **amber-jade james**, **oombala**, **rasberrymelonbutter** and **jen** for the great reviews and help ^.^

Sorry for the time it took to update; severe case of writer's block!!

Every time I got on my laptop I'd open the document and stare blankly at the screen, half expecting the story to write itself

Someone on HPFF commented that she was kind of sick of Draco acting like a prat and generally making an arse of himself. I just wanted to say that for those of you who are reading this and thinking the same thing, don't worry, the transformation from self-absorbed wanker to golden child is starting... It's just taking me a while to get there.

Oh, and by the way, the concluding couple of pages of this chapter were written at 3 am.

My relatives decided it was in their best interest to come down and visit, which I was okay with until my uncle was assigned my room.

He doesn't just snore, oh no.

I'm not prone to hyperbole but, It's more of a sonorous cacophony of jack-hammers, belt sanders and other power tools that come with the mandatory usage of earmuffs. So I found myself in bed with my laptop, blearing Three Days Grace in a vain attempt to drown out the "construction worker symphony."

Cheers,

Tacos-for-all

P.S thanks so much Jen, for bata-ing for me

* * *

**Quick Recap:**

"_That's it!" Draco slammed the books down dramatically._

"_Hah, I knew you'd see my perverted line of reasoning eventually."_

"_No, she doesn't loathe me. Maybe if I treat her especially horribly, you know; be a REAL bastard she'll get so offended that she'll leave me alone and never want to so much as look in my direction ever again. " Draco grinned, plans already forming in his head. "It's foolproof. I'll start by getting rid of this." He withdrew the charm she'd given him on the train from his pocket._

"_You've had that thing in your robes for two days now?"_

"_What of it?" Draco demanded hotly._

"_Oh, nothing." Blaise gave a small, enigmatic smile._

_Draco scowled but didn't push the matter any further. _

_He threw the charm under the bookshelf, feeling strangely empty without it. He quelled that thought as quickly as it had surfaced. _

"_It will be easy to make her hate me; I've done it to everybody else."_

* * *

**­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­Chapter 4: Thin façade**

"_Honest is easy,_  
_Fiction's where genius lies._  
'_Cos it's easy sometimes not to be involved,_  
_Somehow I make you believe._  
_When I speak I cross my fingers,  
__Will you know you've been deceived?_  
_I find the need to be the demon,_  
_A demon can not be hurt."_  
_  
- Guster, 'Demon'_

Darkness loomed oppressively over the school. It cloaked everything in its pitch black embrace so tightly that even the owls refused to move or hoot.

A lone figure made its way effortlessly over the wide expanse of the Hogwarts grounds. Broomstick tucked tightly under one arm, the other grasping the jet black cloak tighter around its body, it seemed to glide across the dewy emerald grass with supernatural ease.

It reached the school's great doors and lifted off its hood to reveal a beautiful woman with hair so blond it was almost white. It glowed iridescent in the late moonlight.

Narcissa knew the inherent risk in coming to Hogwarts but desperation born out of a mother's love caused her to hang the consequences.

She pushed gently, the ancient wood inched inward with an almighty groan of protest. Narcissa cringed as the loud noise seemed to boom over the empty lawn.

She slipped through the opening and into the dark entrance.

.:0:.

Professor Albus Dumbledore had been sitting quietly, sorting through the never-ending pile of paperwork at his desk, when he felt another presence in his office. He tore his gaze away from the parchment and came face to face with Narcissa Malfoy.

He calmly re-adjusted his half-moon spectacles and drew a deep breath, "You know the risk of being here, Narcissa."

The clock on the mantle chimed three o'clock, shattering the silence. Narcissa cringed at the harsh, high pitched keening.

"After what happened to Draco three weeks ago... what my husband has done to him... I couldn't stand idly by and let Lucius destroy my son's humanity... What's left of it at least." She sobbed pitifully.

The professor's eyes warmed compassionately, "What has happened?"

"I'm such a coward; I've been married to that..." She gulped, "Monster for so long, the things I've seen and just let happen... I'm no better than they are." Fat tears made gushing tracks down her porcelain cheeks

He lead her to the sofa in front of the fireplace, "You've been intrinsic to us, you know that. You've supplied the Order with vital information over the years we wouldn't have been able to gain access to otherwise." He handed her his handkerchief. "Now," Dumbledore leveled her with a clear gaze, "What trouble is young Draco in and how am I to help him out of it?"

"Lucius... He..." Narcissa broke off and buried the handkerchief under her nose, too emotional to continue.

"It's okay, take your time. I'll make us some tea." Dumbledore moved to the cabinet behind his desk and the clanking of crockery followed shortly after. He hummed quietly to himself, seemingly at ease with entertaining guests at three AM.

"I guess I started noticing a change in Lucius last December," She stared pensively into the fire, lost in the memory, "He seemed smug..." She frowned, searching for the right words, "more so than usual anyway, and he walked around the house with this air of superiority... Sometimes Draco looks at me with the exact same expression; he hates me so much." She broke into another fit of tears and Dumbledore gently placed a steaming cup of tea into her hands, silently urging her to continue.

"What was the source of this over-confidence in your husband?" The headmaster asked, intent to keep the conversation from straying off on another tangent. He lowered himself into a comfortable arm chair, neatly crossing his legs.

Narcissa sipped her tea, instantly feeling calmer. The scalding liquid made its way down her throat and warmed her belly, she felt herself relaxing into the soft leather.

"He's cursed my son with the Dark Mark." The words seem to slide out of their own volition.

Dumbledore made no reaction at first; if the news shocked him he hid it well. He raised his own cup slowly to his lips, took a long gulp of its steaming contents and placed both the cup and saucer on a conveniently located side table.

The ticking clock suddenly became oppressively loud.

"I think Lucius wants our son dead." She drank deeply, comforted by the warmth, "I can't think of any other reason why he'd do something so suicidal..." Narcissa shook her head, grief-stricken, "My poor boy."

Dumbledore leaned forward, his beverage forgotten, "Maybe he thought he was bestowing a great gift."

Narcissa leapt from her seat sending the tea flying into the fireplace with a sibilant hiss, "It's not a gift, it's a curse!" She screamed, clawing at her hair. The clock's ticking pounded inside her skull, chiming like a death knell in her brain.

Dumbledore was up in a heartbeat, holding her in a reassuring embrace, "I need you to be strong for me," He let her cry into his robe, "I promise I'll do everything within my power to help your son."

"I've put my life on the line for the Greater Good more times than I care to count. I want more than your assurance, I want you to take the Unbreakable Vow."

The clock's ticking ceased.

.:0:.

Draco was wracking his brains trying to think of inventive ways to make Luna Lovegood think he was Evil Incarnate and, quite frankly, he was running out of ideas.

In the past week he had sabotaged her potions, tripped her up when they were passing in the hallway, made her robes spontaneously combust and once implementing a charm to make them transparent, making her food explode in her face; all forms of public humiliation but she jumped back from each incident, a carefree smile on her face and a spring in her step, unaffected by Draco's constant attempts to make her life miserable.

It was such an unusual situation that he wasn't sure the right way to approach it.

He had initially thought that, considering teasing worked so well on her companions, it stood to reason that it should affect her the same way. Draco had since come to realize that when Lovegood was involved, reason was inconsequential.

He stared out the window, the teacher's ramblings nothing but dull background noise.

What form of provocation would work if bullying didn't? It was almost as if she saw through his waves of antagonism and hostility and found some bizarre level of amusement in it.

Blaise did the same thing.

Could it be that he was losing his edge? Maybe his classmates didn't feel as threatened by him as they used to... He scanned the classroom trying to catch a student's eye. When Neville made the mistake of glancing in Draco's direction, he glared back with the most hateful expression he could muster. Neville gulped visibly and frantically looked away.

_Nope_, he thought, _the edge is still definitely there_. So what made Luna immune? There was little doubt that she was a few ingredients short of a potion. Maybe the reason she could smile so readily in the face of danger was that she hadn't grasped the gravity of the situation.

But how to convey the message?

He stared down at his parchment

_Public Humiliation_  
_Spontaneously Combusting Clothing_  
_Transparency Charm  
__Constant Teasing/Petty Name-Calling_  
_Social Exclusion_

He ground his teeth in frustration; they were nothing better than childish pranks - Peeves could probably come up with better forms of intimidation.

Each attempt had been soundly rebuffed. Under different circumstances Draco may have even been impressed by Luna's dogged imperviousness, but it just made him extremely irritated.

He huffed, blowing his fringe out of his eyes.

Maybe it was best just to give up on Lovegood entirely. It certainly wasn't the most effective way to be his utilizing time.

Time which could be spent on more pressing matters. Thoughts of his father tortured and alone, completely at Lord Voldemort's mercy, flooded his mind.

She wasn't worth it anyway.

_Operation: Bastard_ was a failure.

For the first time in a long time, Draco waved the white flag of surrender.

.:0:.

That night in the dining hall, the air was rife with anticipation. The clattering of cutlery was barely heard above the excited furor of the students.

Tomorrow, the first Quidditch match of the school year was to be played.

Griffindors and Slytherins glared at each other from across the room with barely disguised animosity. Luna, however, sat, seemingly oblivious to the bitter rivalry. She leaned over to Hermione, "You know," She began conversationally, "It's going to rain tomorrow. I must remember to bring a raincoat to the match."

"Luna," Hermione patiently began, "it's the middle of summer and it hasn't rained in more than a month. What makes you so sure?'

"A Foggle came to me this morning and told me." Her neat brows drew together in a serious expression, "I'd believe them about this; they're very particular about the weather."

"I'm sure they are, Luna." Hermione sighed, exasperated.

Luna turned to the source of her friend's discomfort. Harry was staring moodily into his potato and leek soup, fervently going out of his way to be antisocial. "Have you had a chance to talk to him yet?"

Hermione shook her head sadly, "I don't know what else to say... I always thought he'd be understanding about our relationship."

Luna cocked her head to the side, "I think he's just angry that you let him figure it out for himself."

"You can be very astute sometimes, Luna." Hermione smiled, shaking her head slowly.

"Dad says that, too. Of course he says a lot of things... I guess it sort of runs in the family, like short-sightedness, or baldness. My dad has a receding hairline, I keep telling him he should see someone about it..." Luna suddenly fell silent and frowned, "What was I saying? I think I lost my train of thought."

Hermione just smiled and patted the blond girl's arm sympathetically.

.:0:.

The rain poured down in torrential sheets making visibility impossible. Draco's wet robes molded to his body like a second skin and the wind cut through the sodden Quidditch gear mercilessly.

His numb hands could barely find purchase on the saturated broom handle and his teeth chattered so loudly it was almost comical. The oppressive gray storm clouds hung heavily, lightening forked the sky and thunder shook the earth.

Draco hovered over the stands attempting to spot any other players flying around the pitch. He squinted in a pathetic attempt to distinguish one blurry dark gray blob from another dark gray blob.

Draco was unnerved by the suddenness and severity of the thunderstorm.

When he'd woken up early that morning, it had been balmy without a cloud in the sky. Now, merely hours later, they seemed to be in the middle of a monsoon.

Draco flew to what he perceived to be the middle of the pitch.

How he was supposed to find an object the size of a baby's fist when he couldn't see two feet in front of him was a mystery.

Suddenly, bolts of agony tore up his left arm, the white hot pain was unlike any Draco had ever experienced. The muscles convulsed wildly and he lost his grip on the broom.

Draco slipped off and plummeted to the earth, his screams swallowed up by the howling wind.

.:0:.

When Draco regained consciousness, darkness had long since descended over the school. He groggily opened one eye, then the other, sending black spots spiraling across his vision. Slowly the mist in his mind cleared and he recognized the clinical white walls of the infirmary. The walls appeared slate gray in the dimness, the shadows danced eerily across the surface like some grotesque puppetry

He shifted slightly and was rewarded with pain. Draco cried in surprise, his eyes flying to the cast now covering his right arm. Someone had also divested him of his sodden clothing and bandaged his midriff and chest.

"You're lucky to be alive."

"Who's there?!" Draco scanned the dark room, searching for the voice's origin. He was startlingly aware of how vulnerable he was; injured and without a wand for protection.

The disembodied voice continued from underneath the cloak of darkness, "You dislocated your right shoulder and shattered the bones in your right forearm, broke two ribs and suffered a rather nasty head wound. If you were subjected to Muggle sciences, you'd be dead by now.

With modern wizarding medicine, however, you should be as good as new by this time next week."

Draco tried to muster his courage, "I said, who's there!" He cursed his voice as it shook.

The figure stepped forward.

Professor Alderwolth appeared spectral as the moonlight danced off his features, bathing him in silver.

"Professor?" Draco registered shock. "What are you doing here?"

"I thought I'd pay you a visit," Alderwolth moved with serpentine grace to the foot of his bed and perched himself on the edge of it, "Seeing as nobody else has the whole three days you've been convalescing here,"

"What?"

"No legions of adoring fans flocking to your bedside sending flowers, candy and other obnoxious gifts. No, you've just been lying in bed, alone and forgotten."

Draco snarled, "Why are you here?"

The professor moved a tapered finger to his chin in a mockery of cogitation, "Didn't we just cover this? Maybe Madame Pomfrey didn't do such a phenomenal job after all."

Draco's eyes narrowed to flinty gray slits, "Why are you, a Professor, really here, visiting a student in the infirmary late at night?"

"His not happy with your progress."

"Who's not?"

The Dark Arts Professor inspected his nails, nonchalant, "The Dark Lord. I was sent here as His liaison and he's not happy with the way things are moving, or are remaining stationary, as the case seems to be. He wants to know what progressive steps you've taken to eliminate Potter"

"You're here to spy on me." It was more statement than question.

"And pass on messages, of course."

"So you're his lapdog, then?"

His eye twitched, cracking the calm porcelain veneer of his face, "Be very careful; I'm the only thing keeping your father alive."

That gave Draco pause; as much as he hated the bastard he was his father after all. "How do I know you haven't killed him already?"

"As trite as it sounds: I guess you'll just have to trust me."

_Dumbledore needs to examine his faculty more closely. A background check or two probably wouldn't go astray._ "I knew there was something off about you. Whenever you were close by my arm started to hurt."

He lifted up his burgundy sleeve. The Dark Mark seemed to undulate on the surface of his skin "Like calls to like. Your Mark was reacting to mine."

Draco turned his left arm exposing the writhing jet black blight, "I should have known there was more to this thing than just a trendy fashion statement... Wait" The colour drained immediately from his face, "What if someone-"

"-You can end that thought right there, I implemented simple cloaking spell the moment I noticed you being carried off the pitch; you and I are the only ones who are able to see it."

"I can't fault you for having your priorities out of order. I'm just touched that you cared." Draco couldn't comprehend the sudden surge of moronic courage coursing through him; it was almost as if he were looking into the jaws of death, and instead of begging for his life, he started pulling on its razor-sharp incisors and laughing stupidly. "It's incredibly reassuring to know you were following the strict Death Eater Code of Ethics... I'm sure I'll get the brochure when I've been properly briefed."

Alderwolth was taken aback for a moment, "You're the youngest to be initiated. It's a phenomenal privilege."

Draco snorted sardonically, "It's amazing how often that word gets thrown around."

Alderwolth's silver eyes swirled crimson, "You dare impugn the honor?" His wand was drawn instantly and rammed into this soft flesh on the underside of his jaw. "There are so many things I could do to you." He ran the wooden tip down his throat to his breast bone. "No one would hear you scream... No one would care."

Draco felt the icy fingers of fear crawl up his spine, his bravado disappearing instantaneously. "I'll do whatever you want... Just don't hurt me." He blurted, hating himself even more.

Alderwolth rose, smiling darkly, "Very good, young Malfoy; there might be hope for you yet."

Draco fought the mounting panic rising like sickly bile in his throat. How was he supposed to succeed when countless others, even Voldemort himself, had failed?

.:0:.

Draco was scared, angry and in a catastrophic amount of pain. He wasn't sure whether he wanted to punch someone or pass-out.

It was Wednesday evening and Madame Pomfrey had seen fit to toss him coldly and callously back into class life. The hallway was all but deserted and Draco surmised that everyone had retreated to their respective dorms for their evening gossip/study sessions.

He wasn't ready to face the nosy relentless questioning of his dimwitted classmates. The thought of any social interaction made his stomach turn inside out and his throat dry as parchment.

He hadn't had a decent night's sleep since Alderwolth's late night visit; he could no longer ignore Voldemort and the very real, very deadly threat he presented.

If he failed to make his move soon, he'd probably start receiving his father's body parts in the post.

Not that his father didn't probably deserve it; after everything he'd put Draco and his mother through...

Still, he couldn't just stand by and let it happen... Could he? Had that vision been a horrifying prediction of the future or just a primitive warning that Alderwolth had implanted in his head?

It had certainly felt real enough;

_He then watched himself raise his wand and level it with cold malice at his cowering father's chest. _

_Everything was suspended in slow motion as Draco heard the words, "Avada Kedavra," fall from his lips. _

No. Draco knew deep down he wasn't capable of such an atrocity despite how real it had felt.

Deep down Draco knew he wasn't a killer.

Killing Potter was impossible; not only was Draco emotionally unable to commit murder, there was also the fact that Harry was seemingly infallible.

Although Draco would've been the last person who would verbally admit it, Harry was possibly the greatest wizard in the world... albeit the biggest knob.

Draco held the life of two people in his hands. Do nothing and doom his father to death, or go up against Potter the Indestructible and more than likely end up dead himself.

All he wanted to do was jump off a Hogwarts Parapet. With each passing moment leaping headlong off the treacherous building was turning into a more attractive prospect.

.:0:.

Draco's nerves were at breaking point when he saw Lovegood floating down the hallway. She appeared to be in a deep and intense conversation, which would've been fine had anyone been walking next to her. She waved her arms expressively at the invisible entity following her.

Luna was so engrossed in the argument, she didn't sense his approach. He grabbed her by the arm and dragged her into the closest classroom, slamming the heavy door behind him.

Draco held her with bruising force. "I've had just about enough of you and your wasted optimism." His nails pinched her forearm as he half carried, half towed her to a nearby desk. She struggled feebly against him as he hefted her onto it.

To Luna's credit, she didn't shrink away when he moved his hands down her arms to either side of her body. He splayed his hands on the desk, trapping her. "It sickens me... That you could be so oblivious to the world around you."

Luna frowned, "I'm not sure I understand."

Draco grabbed her roughly by the chin, pulling her face inches from his, "Why don't you hate me?!" His eyes flared and his hot breath fanned her face. "Why aren't you afraid of me?!" He fired questions, one after the other, his anger rising with every word, "What twisted little game are you playing?"

"No game." She managed to spit out. Draco's fingertips dug painfully into her cheeks and somehow during the course of the argument, he'd finessed his hips between her legs.

Her calm descended into panic when she realized the gravity of the situation.

Draco was quick to notice the alarm in her eyes and grinned sardonically, "Fear," He said pensively, "I knew it was hiding in there somewhere." He felt the Dark Mark begin to pulsate.

Like an insidious parasite, something began creeping up his left arm, rapidly infecting his entire body. Draco's hands snaked up her body, taking her jumper with them.

Luna threw a punch at his head, he absorbed the blow, his head whipping sharply to the side. She then aimed another at his throat and landed it with stunning accuracy.

He fell, wheezing to the floor, clutching his battered windpipe. He choked out a few broken curses before erupting into a coughing fit.

Luna pulled down her jumper. Draco had managed to hitch it up to her armpits, leaving an embarrassingly large portion of her midriff and chest exposed with only the thin white linen of her blouse as protection.

She slid off the desk and raced to the door.

"Stop right there." The words were discordant and barely above a whisper but they still froze her in her tracks. Luna couldn't ignore the underlying threat they held.

She turned slowly, the door a hair's breadth away.

Draco was gasping for air in shallow, constricted pants. He staggered to his feet, grunting with effort. His hands were wrapped tightly around his neck and his blond hair obscured his face from view.

Suddenly the atmosphere in the classroom seemed to shift.

The air felt thin somehow, as if the oxygen had been siphoned through the cracks and crevices in the walls. The only noise Luna could hear was the erratic pounding of her heart. The room felt as if it were in suspended animation; the trees stood still outside the window, their arms outstretched, silent as death

"You're going to regret doing that," He rasped, "you bitch." His voice sounded different, oddly hypnotic. For some reason she conjured up an image of a snake lulling a field mouse with its sibilant hissing. Feeling very much the helpless mouse, she tried to run but her feet were rooted to the ground.

The temperature in the room seemed to drop drastically, plummeting till Luna's breath plumed white clouds in front of her face.

Taring his hands away from his throat, relying heavily on a nearby desk, Draco steadied himself. Luna watched with dread as he took one shaky step after the other. His gait was unnatural, somehow disjointed, "Tell me, Lovegood," He hissed, "How does it feel? Trying so hard to fit in but having everyone laugh at you behind your back? Knowing that no matter how hard you try no one will ever take you seriously?"

"Who are you?" Luna stammered.

"Me?" spat the reply, "I'm Draco, don't you recognize me?" He was finally close enough now for Luna to see his eyes, she gasped in horror.

Where his gray irises had once been, there were now narrow black lines in a sea of rheumy yellow. The jet black vertical slits widened, "You really are vapid, aren't you?" The voice that was and wasn't Draco's laughed, a haunting and miserable sound, dry and grating like sandpaper. "No one will ever accept you. You'll drift through life alone, bereft of love and friendship. I hope your so-called individuality is worth a life of social exclusion and isolation."

Luna tried not to let the truth of the words sink in, whether this thing was Draco or not, it seemed to be aware of every insecurity, every doubt she possessed. "What are you?"

His gold eyes glowed mockingly, "If I told you, I'd have to kill you," He chuckled hoarsely.

"I'd like to..." Draco's body jerked violently backward, His hands fisted in his hair, "GET OUT!" He screamed, clawing at his skull. "Get out of my head!" He threw himself around the room stumbling into furniture, knocking over chairs and desks, fighting some epic internal battle to reclaim his body.

In that moment, Luna could breath again.

Seizing the opportunity, she didn't hesitate to fling open the door and escape the creature's grasp.

* * *

FOOTNOTE:

the next chapter will be called **The Boy Who Cried Wolf**

Christmas break is coming up soon so hopefully I can get time away from work (both jobs) to really get some serious writing done... these lapses are getting longer and longer, inexcusably so, I think.

In an effort of compensation and good will to the few of you who are still reading this, I made sure this chapter had lots of humorous sexual innuendos... teehee... it's fun being immature ;)

till next time, folks and thanks for tuning in


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